


Making Time

by scholarlydragon



Series: Turning of the Seasons [2]
Category: Stardew Valley (Video Game)
Genre: Cute, F/M, Gen, Nervousness, New Relationship, friend teasing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-04
Updated: 2020-06-21
Packaged: 2021-03-03 21:41:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 13,027
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24532462
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scholarlydragon/pseuds/scholarlydragon
Summary: It's been a week since Wren and Harvey confessed their feelings to each other and Wren decides it's time to have a date night. With the farm in between season growth and Harvey's clinic at a lull after allergy season, she enacts her plan.
Relationships: Harvey (Stardew Valley)/Original Female Character(s)
Series: Turning of the Seasons [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1756120
Comments: 12
Kudos: 27





	1. Taking Initiative

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wren considers Harvey and their situation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, my plan to take time off from Wren and Harvey to focus on my other fandom didn’t work out so well. These two adorkable lovebirds have my heart and I couldn’t stay away from them.  
> There is mention in this chapter of relationship issues (not Wren and Harvey!). I will not be delving into anything too triggering, but I’ve given Wren a history that she will need to work through so I wanted to make people aware that hints will begin showing. At the end of Making Time, there will be a more in-depth discussion and so I will put another note on that chapter.

An insistent and jangling cadence breaks the fog of sleep and I can’t restrain a curse as I roll over and fumble for my phone. Shutting off the annoying bleat, I emphatically shove my head back into my pillow with a grunt.

Farm life necessitates an early morning but, Yoba knows, I can’t get used to it.

After about a month on the farm, and so many late and bleary starts that I’d lost track, I’d finally managed to concoct a system. If I started a series of alarms early enough, I could snooze through several before I _had_ to get up and that made the inevitable moment of becoming upright so much more bearable.

All too soon, seemingly just as I’d drowsed back to sleep, the squawk begins again. With a groan that seems to come all the way from my toes, I reach out and grab the phone, lifting my head just enough to find the button to silence it.

Just as I’m about to drop my head back down again, the blink of a notification catches my attention.

**_Text Message from Harvey_ **

Despite my annoyance with mornings, technology, and life in general, I smile as I thumb open the text app. Some things are more important than the allure of a soft pillow. The screen blinks over as the app opens and I squint at the words.

**_Harvey:_ **

**_Good morning, Wren. Thinking of you._ **

I groan good naturedly as I hit the reply button. _How is he so… chipper in the morning?_ In the time that I’ve known him, Harvey has shown a tendency toward early-birdism that frankly confuses me. _I’m not all that much of a night-owl, but how can any rational being be content with rolling out of bed when pillows and blankets are so wonderful?_

**_Me:_ **

**_Good morning to you, too. I hope you’re thinking good things?_ **

**_Harvey:_ **

**_Nothing but good, I assure you. ‘If I had a flower for every time I thought of you, I could walk in my garden forever.’_ **

My heart squeezes in my chest.

**_Me:_ **

**_You’re ridiculous and it’s wonderful._ **

**_Harvey:_ **

**_Well, that’s reassuring. I’d hate for you to find me ridiculous and terrible._ ** 😉 ****

I giggle into my pillow. Calling Harvey ridiculous is no more or less than the truth, but somehow it only adds to his charm. He is so genuine that what might seem over-the-top or false in anyone else just _fits_ him.

**_Me:_ **

**_I promise, I am extremely happy with every aspect of you. Even your ridiculousness._ **

**_Harvey:_ **

**_You’re going to give me an enormous ego._ **

**_At least I can’t claim originality on the quote. Though the provenance of it is questionable, I certainly didn’t come up with it._ **

**_Me:_ **

**_Well, I blushed at it, questionable provenance or not._ **

**_Harvey:_ **

**_Perhaps I should quote other things for you. In person next time, so I can see the blush._ **

My face heats.

_I don’t think I’ve ever blushed as much as I have in the last week._

I hadn’t thought myself the soppy sort, but damn if he doesn’t bring it out of me.

**_Me:_ **

**_You’re a cruel man. You’d make me blush just to get your jollies?_ **😜

**_Harvey:_ **

**_Not at all. I’d make you blush just because it’s adorable._ **

My face heats even further. What is it about the idea of Harvey finding anything about me adorable that discomfits me so much?

**_Me:_ **

**_Somehow that seems even more cruel. Lol_ **

**_I do need to drag myself out of bed and get the day going, much as I’d rather stay here and chat with you. I’m too comfortable to face chores, but I must._ **

**_Harvey:_ **

**_Just think, the sooner you’re done, the sooner you can be comfy again._ **

**_I should probably get myself moving for work as well. I’ll still be thinking of you today._ **

**_Me:_ **

**_Ridiculous, I’m telling you._ **

**_Harvey:_ **

😉

  
  


I linger in bed for a moment more, staring at Harvey’s last message, a smile pulling at my mouth as insistently as the bloom of warmth spreads through my chest. I marvel at the fact that with a simple morning text exchange, Harvey has done so much to just make me happy. It feels like I’ve had precious little of that emotion over the last few years.

Doubt tugs at the back of my mind, nagging worry that history could repeat itself. That I have no business getting excited over this when…

I push away the rest of the train of thought with an effort. There is no reason to think I’m in danger of that with him. _Especially_ not with him.

With a groan, I push myself up and out of bed, silencing the next impending alarm on my phone. I trudge to the kitchen, intent on starting coffee, mulling over Doctor Harvey Blackwell.

It’s been a week since our walk by the river. A week since he kissed me and I’d shivered, feeling as though every bit of my body was realigning. I snort, shaking my head in rueful chagrin. I might be more naturally soppy than I’d suspected.

_Has it really only been a week?_

It’s so strange to think how so much has changed in so short a time, and yet… This new relationship seems to just fit, for all that we haven’t been able to see each other much recently. Taking in the last of the crops and then readying the fields for summer planting had eaten up much of my time. In addition, the most recent burst of spring storms triggered a particularly strong pollen bloom so Harvey had been kept extremely busy with allergy sufferers from across the Valley. One of the downsides of being the only doctor for miles. He’d been in and out of town regularly, making his rounds of the other Valley hamlets in his beat up gray sedan.

We had taken what time we could here and there. I’d gone to the clinic on my trips to town, bringing coffee or lunch, and visited with Harvey and Maru. I’d occasionally been up to Harvey’s apartment on lunch breaks, but those were hurried visits given how busy he’d been. He’d seemed grateful for the breaks and distraction from the monotony of doling treatment for itchy eyes and runny noses and he’d kissed me goodbye after every visit. He hadn’t lost his bashfulness, but he’d seemed to slowly grow more and more comfortable.

He’d been so tentative as we had walked along the river that day. I was so surprised when he turned his head to kiss me after I kissed his cheek that first time. I hadn't expected that, not from shy Harvey. I’d thought I’d need to draw him out more. Yet, the touch of his lips had been so sweet, so gentle, so endearingly affectionate. Those qualities had been present in every single kiss we had shared since.

Memory tugs at the back of my mind once more with that same tug of doubt, of another place and time, of public affection used to mask private apathy. I squeeze my eyes shut, my finger poised on the button for the battered coffee pot, resisting the wash of old pain.

_Harvey isn’t like that._

I’ve never experienced what I feel with him in a relationship before. This bone-deep sense of contentment at just the idea of being with him. This eagerness to not just share the trappings of a relationship, but the small things in life.

_I want to know what he looks like first thing in the morning, but I also want to know how he smiles after finishing a crossword puzzle and how he looks when he’s bored in the middle of a long afternoon. I want to know, not just that he likes pickles and coffee, but what his favorite meal is and make it for him. I want to watch bad movies and laugh with him and I want to watch good movies and watch his happiness._

I have to smile. It might just be time to embrace my soppiness.

I never expected to find something like this when I moved to the valley. I had only been looking to flee what I was leaving behind. I’d been glad enough of his friendship, same as with everyone else in the village, but something about his endearingly awkward nature had started growing on me as a friend and then as more. 

_I know that I can trust him. It’s only my own worries that hold me back._

I shake myself from my wandering thoughts and press the button for the coffee pot, the gurgle of percolation beginning to echo instantly. I won’t get anything done today if I keep standing around, letting my thoughts twine on themselves like brambles.

I pull together a quick breakfast of eggs, oatmeal, and coffee once I’m able to make myself focus and, before long, I’m out the door to inspect the farm.

As yet, I’m still able to walk the farm on foot without eating up too much of the day or wearing myself out. I’ve managed to clear and cultivate about four acres for the crops, but the farm as a whole encompasses well over two hundred. I have pipe dreams of one day clearing it all of bracken and overgrowth and branching out from just seasonal crops into livestock and an orchard. The broken down old greenhouse holds a promise of offseason growth and perhaps more exotic plants. These are all dreams for the future, though. There is quite enough to keep me busy in the here and now.

The rows of corn, pepper, and tomato seeds look undisturbed and I give the old scarecrow a friendly pat as I pass by. I am elated to see the first beginnings of wheat sprouts already poking above the soil in their field. Inspection of the sprinkler system shows that it is working perfectly. As I work through the morning, I find my thoughts turning inevitably, inexorably, back to Harvey.

He had come out to the farm once or twice in the time that I’d been there and it had been endearing watching him pick his way through the fields. Despite living in the valley for quite some time, Harvey had a lingering city-boy reaction to some of the realities of farm life. I couldn’t tease him too much for it, though. I myself had even less distance between the present and a city-girl mindset. My first few months or so on Berry Hill Farm had been one long object lesson in exhaustion and blisters as I’d tried to wrest viable soil from the debris of stones and fallen tree branches. Once I had, though, it had been a fulfillment unlike any I'd ever found in the city. It had been something of a shock to realize I might just be meant to do this.

I’ve done all I can with the fields before noon and I need something to keep myself occupied if I’m not going to simply spend the entire day lost in my own head about Harvey. It’s been a while since I’ve been foraging up the backwoods mountain pass, and the idea sounds more and more appealing as I think about it. I might be able to catch some early spiceberries and there might be some lingering leeks and horseradish to be found.

I grab my satchel, spade, and knife from the house, and head out in the back gate of the farm.

The walk is pleasant. The days have been growing hotter as summer begins but it's still early enough that it's not too hot, especially under the shade of the trees. There are indeed a few leeks hidden in the undergrowth and some bright orange spiceberries on low flung vines, and before long, my bag is beginning to bulge. 

Despite my efforts at self-distraction however, yet again, my thoughts turn toward the clinic. What is Harvey doing now? I have to smile at myself. _You’ve got it bad, girl._ I want to see him again and soon. It's high time to set up a date.

As I turn a corner of the path, I catch sight of a huddled figure. Leah is sitting in a soft patch of grass under a tree, her sketchbook propped on her knees and her attention focused on a vibrant daffodil in front of her. She looks up as she hears my boots crunch on the loose stones in the path and smiles, raising a hand in greeting.

"Hey there, Wren. How are you feeling? Stitches still holding up ok?"

I walk over and set my bag in the grass before plopping down next to her. "I’m feeling so much better, thank you. The stitches are doing just fine and I should be able to have them out in another few days. I definitely won't be making the same mistake again."

"Well, at least you know if you do Harvey will gladly patch you up." She glances sideways at me with a sly look. I laugh.

"I'm sure he will but you _know_ that the scolding and the worry will be so much worse."

"Oh, for sure," she laughs. "I suppose, in that case, it's not really worth it"

"It’s some variation of an apple a day keeps the doctor away. Maybe more like an Elixir a day keeps the doctor’s worries at bay."

"I like that," she chuckles, "Speaking of Harvey, how are the two of you doing? I feel like we haven't had much chance to catch up recently.”

I grimace. "You're not wrong. I’ve been busy on the farm and he’s been super busy in the clinic. We've only been able to steal a few moments here and there with no proper dates yet."

Leah nods in sympathy. “That’s got to be rough. Do you have any plans?

I shake my head. “I was just thinking earlier that I need to make some, but I haven’t cemented anything yet for myself, much less asked him.” I bite my lip, thinking. I had nothing to do this evening. Would Harvey be free?

The sound of approaching footsteps breaks my thought train and draws our attention. Maru is coming up the path from her house and she raises a hand in greeting.

"Hey, ladies! How's it going?" Maru sits down on Leah's other side. Leah grins. 

"Quite well. We were just discussing Doctor Blackwell and our friend here."

I duck my head, blushing, as Maru laughs.

"Oh, that's a ripe source of conversation, indeed! Wren, you should see him whenever you leave the clinic. I swear even puppies don’t have such mournful, pleading looks."

Leah giggles. “Sounds like he’s got it pretty bad. I’ve seen him looking a his phone with such a dreamy look when he’s out in the square on a break. Has to be about your text messages, Wren. Have you sent him any selfies?”

My phone rings before I can respond and I'm only too glad of the distraction from their chatter as I pull it out. My eyes go wide as I see that it’s Harvey and try to surreptitiously angle the phone away, but Leah is too fast. She glances over and grins. "Oh, look. The man himself."

Maru laughs. "If he's not calling to set up a date, I swear..."

I stand and move a little away from them for some privacy, trying to ignore the way they elbow each other and grin. _They mean well. Just remember it is considered in poor taste to smack your friends._ Pressing the ‘answer call’ button, I hold it up to my ear. The automatic smile I have at just the thought of talking to Harvey comes through clearly in my voice.

"Hello, Doctor."

Harvey's sweet voice comes through the phone. "Hey there, Wren. How are you doing?"

"I'm well, except Leah and Maru are full of questions about you and I."

"Oh." I can almost hear the blush in his voice. "What did you - what did you tell them?”

I smile. “Well, I hadn’t had a chance to say much other than that you and I have both been busy. Maru just told us, though, that you’ve had puppy eyes whenever I leave the clinic.” He sputters a little and my smile widens. "They are afire with curiosity about when we might be going on a date. I told them that you and I have been busy and they were rather put out.” I pause and take a deep breath, trying to quell the flutter of nervousness in my belly. “I was thinking of asking you out though."

There is a long moment as Harvey pauses and my heart climbs my throat. When he finally speaks, the husked warmth in his voice sends a shiver down my spine. "Is that so? Did you have anything in mind?"

I breathe a little easier and tilt my face up into the warm, dappled sunlight. I can almost imagine he’s here. “Nothing more specific than realizing I was free this evening. I know it’s short notice, but are you available?”

“Mmhmm.” He hums softly, warmly, and I can almost hear his smile. “I am quite free this evening. Would you want to go out anywhere? We could make the drive to the city.”

“I don’t think so. Not tonight. It seems like every moment we’ve been able to steal this week has been in public or close enough. It’s not fancy, but I think I would love just a quiet evening at your place or mine.”

“If we are moving away from anything resembling public, then I think the farmhouse would suit much better than my apartment. Perhaps dinner and a movie?”

A giddy thrill runs through me. A date. A real date. Never mind the fact that it will just be at my home. It’s a chance to spend time with Harvey.

“That sounds wonderful,” I murmur, my smile broadening to a grin. “What would you say to a suggestion of adding kisses to that plan for dinner and a movie?”

Harvey laughs out loud, a warm sound that seems to curl into my bones. “I think I can definitely get on board with that suggestion. I'll admit I have missed the chance to be able to kiss you without Maru being in the next room.”

I laugh with him. “I feel the same and I don't want to have to take a walk by the river every time I want to kiss you. If nothing else that would make for very frequent trips, and might seem suspicious to Marnie. Though Leah might find it entertaining given her current interest in us.”

“That is a very fair point.” I can hear the faint creak of his office chair in the background as though he just settled behind his desk. “Unfortunately, I need to get back to work. There’s some paperwork that’s been languishing. I’ll see you this evening?” There is an adorable note of hopefulness in his voice.

“You will indeed. How about six? And what’s your opinion on fish?”

“Both six o’ clock and fish sound wonderful. I can’t wait.”

I can’t stop grinning.

“Neither can I.”

We say our goodbyes and I shut my phone off and make my way back over to Leah and Maru. They are both grinning and I plop down next to them with a groan.

“Go ahead, out with it. Any questions the two of you might have?”

They both put on matching expressions of innocence. 

“Oh, no. No questions at all. None whatsoever!”

I breathe a little easier.

“I am wondering, though,” Leah muses, “whether lingerie might be called for. I do believe Harvey likes the color green…”

I blush hard as I drop my head into my hands and mutter, “ _Yoba_ …” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Harvey’s quote does, in fact, have questionable provenance. In researching, I found several possible sources. I dithered on whether to attribute it to one author or the other, or whether to include it at all, but in the end, I liked it too much to leave it out. https://quoteinvestigator.com/2014/04/07/flower-forever/


	2. Soothing a Sting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harvey gets ready for date night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This series and I owe a gigantic debt to my beta readers, Alulah and Jessy.  
> From editing help to naming characters and listening to me whine when my muses won't cooperate, this story would not be what it is without their help.  
> Ladies, thank you from the bottom of my heart.

Once more, three o’clock can’t come fast enough. Even as an intern, then a resident working twelve plus hour shifts, I had never been quite so eager for the end of the work day.

I had only had one appointment that morning- Evelyn had requested advice on how best to treat a pain in her hands- and I am left feeling at loose ends for the rest of the afternoon. I don’t even have the benefit of distraction with Maru’s company. She has the day off and I am not about to call her in just to have someone to chat with.

The idea of her inevitable and inquisitive teasing does much to tamp down the impulse as well.

By two o’clock, I’ve already cleaned and tidied every room in the clinic, inventoried the cabinets and storage closets, and organized the aging selection of magazines in the waiting room. At risk of spinning out and cleaning things a second time, I make myself stop and take a breath. 

At least this time, I’m significantly less nervous, restless fidgeting notwithstanding. I’d thought I would combust from anxiety before that walk by the river. At least I know how Wren feels about me, this time. But this is our first date and that brings with it a host of other insecurities.

Like I need more.

I can’t shake my worry that I won’t measure up to her expectations of me and the evening or, for that matter, the rest of this thing between us. Another bubble of nervous energy swells in my chest and I blow out a heavy breath. I need something to do that’s not watching the clock or compulsive reorganization.

_ What would actually be helpful? Oh! _

I nearly smack myself in the forehead as the thought pops into my head. A list. I can make a list for things to do once I finally get to close up the clinic. Not only am I at risk of simply staring at the clock once again until six, I’m not about to show up at the farm- for our  _ date _ !- empty handed. I want to bring something for dinner and something for Wren as well.

My thoughts automatically flit to what I’d  _ like _ to bring her. Years in the valley and I still find myself thinking first of gifting flowers as something done casually, just because the recipient might like them. I remember how shocked I’d been the first time I’d heard of the odd custom that declared a gift of a bouquet to be a statement of serious intent, a shift from ‘just dating’ to something much deeper. That shock was quickly followed by a rush of relief that I hadn’t yet stuck my foot in my mouth through misunderstanding.

I’d like to bring Wren flowers just to see her smile, a holdover from my city days. But… I can’t deny that I already want to give her flowers in the valley tradition as well. I want to give her a bouquet, and not just as a friend. Yoba help me. I want to give her everything.

_ It’s been a  _ week _ , Harvey. Get a grip on yourself. _

I know that I’m being ridiculous. I  _ know _ it.

But I can’t deny that there is… something deeper when I think of Wren. Something more than I ever expected. I’ve spent so long wishing I had the nerve to act with her that now that I have, she seems wrapped around my heart.

I refuse to rush this. I won’t risk letting my yearning ruin what I’ve spent so long wanting. I’m determined to take this as slow as I need to take it. Part of the problem, though, is that I don’t know exactly where she is and what she wants emotionally. A flutter of anxiety patters behind my ribs that perhaps she doesn’t feel as I do, that this isn’t the same for her as it is for me. I shake it away with an annoyed grunt as I sink down in my office chair, pulling over a notepad.

She doesn’t deserve that kind of doubt, especially when she’s done nothing whatsoever to merit it. Wren had said that she wanted to try and I’ve seen nothing from her to suggest that anything has changed. If my anxiety is insisting on these worries, it just means that she and I need to have a conversation.

I snort and laugh softly to myself.  _ And to not have the first week of dating be so busy that we can’t actually have a proper date. _

I need to work at letting go of this fretting. What was it Wren had said? ‘ _ You’re here. I’m here.’ _ Even though she is not here right now, I could certainly do worse than let the comforting thought of her presence fill me. Every time she has said that it’s been a calming, centering moment for me. Already she’s keeping me grounded.

_ Does she know just how much she’s done for me already? Even with a week of barely being able to see each other. _

I swallow down the rest of my anxiety as I resolve to tell her tonight.

_ She needs to know how much she means to me. _

I lose myself for a few minutes in scribbling down everything I can think of that needs to be done before I head to the farm. A shower, shave, and a change of clothing is a given. I want to look my best, even if that best is ‘decently dressed nerd approaching middle age’.

I tap my pen against the pad, thoughtfully. I should bring something for dinner. She had said fish, but I have no idea what other plans she might have. To find out, I’ll have to call Wren. I grin to myself.

_ Oh, hardship... _

It takes only a moment to pull my phone from my pocket and pull up Wren’s number from my contacts list. As I lift the phone to my ear, it rings a handful of times, then a click as it’s picked up.

“Hello, doctor.”

I find myself smiling automatically at the sound of her voice.

“Hello, sweetheart. I was wondering if I could bring anything for dinner tonight.”

“Well, I’ve got the salmon and some sides....” she trails off, thinking for a moment. “Ooh, can you pick up a tossed salad from the Stardrop?”

“Certainly. Do you have dressing preferences?”

“Not really. Just a nice vinaigrette.”

“I’m on it.” I lean back in my chair, allowing myself to bask in the contentment of just hearing her voice. I know I’m being a sap, but I can’t bring myself to care a bit. “I’m looking forward to tonight so much.”

I can hear her smile as she replies. “I’m glad to hear it. I am, too. I keep looking at the clock, wanting it to be six already.”

I laugh. “Oh, me, too. I’ve cleaned everything in the clinic just to keep myself from staring at the minute hand, willing it to move faster.”

Wren chuckles. “I hope that I can make the evening live up to your expectations.”

“Sweetheart, you will do that simply by being you.”

There is silence on the other end of the line for long moments and I smile. “Wren? Are you there?”

“Y-yeah.” She blows out a breath. “One of these days, I’m gonna get used to you saying things like that to me.”

“I hope not. You’re adorable when you’re flustered.”

She sputters. “You’re one to talk, Mr. Blushing-is-part-of-communicating!”

I laugh out loud. “I do pride myself on being eloquent, anxious stammering notwithstanding. Perhaps I’ll teach you some blushing-as-Morse-code this evening.”

Wren snorts. “I’ll be looking forward to it, Dr. Blackwell. I’ll see you at six.”

“Count on it, Ms. Garner.”

We hang up and I let out a long, deep breath. It’s so strange. I can lose myself in banter and flirting with Wren as long as I don’t stop to think about what’s happening. I find myself so comfortable with her that the words just flow. But the moment I remember that this is  _ Wren _ , the woman I’ve pined after for so long and that I need to not mess up what might be the best thing that’s ever happened to me? An anxiety bomb might as well have exploded in my chest.

Lingering horror at myself curls dread through my gut.

_ Blushing as Morse Code? Really? Idiot. _

With an irritated shake of my head, I do my best to refocus my attention on the task at hand. She had seemed amused, and had still wanted to hold to our date, so I can only assume that she didn’t find me too awkward to bear. Setting aside my anxieties with no small effort (and steadfastly ignoring the lingering flickers that stubbornly refuse to be suppressed), I move onto the next items on my list. 

Placing the order with Gus for a large tossed salad with his special lemon vinaigrette and a bottle of starfruit wine is the work of a moment. It’s a splurge for certain, but I love the idea of it. This is our first date and I want to treat it as the momentous occasion my heart tells me that it is.

I can almost hear Wren teasing me for being a softy.

By this point, it’s close enough to three o’clock that I simply turn the ‘open’ sign to ‘closed’, and flip the bolt. I laugh a little as I turn to the stairs up to my apartment. Years in Pelican Town and I can count the number of closed clinic days, or even just early closures, on one hand. Yet now, it’s sometimes all I can do on slow days to keep myself in the office and not on Berry Hill Farm.

_ Maybe it’s time for a change in hours… _

Yoba knows, the number of hours the clinic is open doesn’t reflect the foot traffic it actually sees. I could probably free up time for myself and not change my actual work hours much at all. I sigh as I close the door to my apartment, a familiar bloom of anxiety in my chest. I’d have been foolish to think it wouldn’t appear. Any change from routine tends to provoke it. 

Still… I can think logically enough about it to look past the worry and see that such a change would be largely harmless. It might well do me some good. There’s no point in sitting for hours on slow days just waiting for patients to appear, just for the sake of being available. 

_ If they need me, I have a cell phone. _

In hindsight, I’m not sure why I did it for so long. Stubbornness, most likely.

Shelving the question for the moment, I refocus. I’ll have all the time I want to ponder how to best handle the clinic tomorrow. Tonight will only happen once.

Which raises the question of how to handle the roughly three hours until time to leave. I could try to distract myself with a book or working on my models. However, I strongly suspect that, regardless of how I try to distract myself, I’ll end up watching the clock. I’d rather do that knowing I’ve already done all I can to get ready.

I take my time in showering and getting ready, as much to fill time before heading to the farm as to ensure I'm fully prepared. I’m not sure I’ve ever paid quite so much attention to trimming my mustache before. But soon enough I’m out of the bathroom and perusing my closet.

A tie is probably overdoing it, but I want to look as nice as I can. Finally, I settle on a pale blue buttoned shirt and charcoal gray slacks. 

I'm hesitant to wear anything other than nice shoes, but they aren't ideal for walking around a farm and I don't want to end up wishing I was better prepared if Wren wants to go for a walk. I pull my only pair of work boots from the back of the closet and place them by the door. I'll put them in the car before I leave. Needing to change shoes isn’t the worst thing in the world.

As I’m tying my oxfords, seated at the kitchen table, my phone buzzes on the tabletop at my elbow. When I pick it up, I grin broadly at the sight of the screen.

**_Text from: Wren Garner_ **

**_Wren:_ **

**_If you wanted to come over earlier than six, you are more than welcome to._ **

My heart leaps at the idea. There is no way I’m going to turn down an invitation to head out to the farm earlier than I’d planned, but I can’t resist the impulse to tease her.

**_Me:_ **

**_Well, I was planning on being fashionably late…_ **

**_Wren:_ **

**_Fuck, please don’t lol_ **

**_Maybe I should be all stoic or aloof or whatever, but truth is I just plain want to see you._ **

**_Me:_ **

**_Tell you a secret?_ **

**_I’m just as eager to see you._ **

**_So what do you say we throw any potential etiquette concerns to the winds and do as we please?_ **

**_Wren:_ **

**_That sounds like a superb plan, Doctor. I like how you think._ **

**_Me:_ **

**_I’ll contact Gus about moving up my order pickup time and I’ll be out there as soon as I can._ **

**_Wren:_ **

**_You’re the best. I can’t wait._ **

I dial the Stardrop Saloon immediately and request the time change. Gus is as affable as always and assures me that he’ll have the salad and wine ready to go in moments. As I end the call and move to put my phone in my pocket, I see another text alert from Wren. Curious, I pull it up.

**_Wren:_ **

**_I was thinking some more._ **

**_I said you’re the best, but I don’t think that quite covers it._ **

**_I’ve never known anyone like you, Harvey. And I don’t just mean about tonight._ **

Blushing deeply, I tap out a reply.

**_Me:_ **

**_I’m not sure what to say other than thank you very much. I think it’s higher praise than I deserve._ **

**_I assure you, you are quite singular in my experience as well._ **

I hit send before I can second-guess myself, then immediately sit staring at the screen, borderline horrified at myself.

_ Oh, well done, you massive idiot. An excellent way to tell the woman what she means to you. A+ job… _

I stare at my phone for breathless moments, certain that I’ve put her off with my ridiculousness. I’m poised to send another message to say something, anything, to play off my idiotic verbiage when another text message pings in.

**_Wren:_ **

**_I have to say, I’ve never been told I’m unique quite like that before. I like it._ **

**_I’ll see you soon, word nerd._ ** 💖

The tiny heart at the end of her message seems to fill my screen and the smile it puts on my face lasts through locking up the apartment, stashing my boots in my car, and walking across the square to the Stardrop. The interior is dim and cool after the bright sunlight outside. Gus stands behind the bar, wiping it down. Pierre sits at the bar, sipping a soda. They both look up as I push open the door, offering smiles and waves in greeting.

“Hey, Harvey! I’ve got your order here.” Gus taps a to-go bag resting on the counter with one finger. A dark purple glass bottle stands next to it, bearing the label of one of the better wineries from the other end of the valley.

Pierre squints at the label as I reach the bar, then grins at me, raising an eyebrow.

“Starfruit, huh? Pulling out all the stops tonight?”

I duck my head, trying in vain to control the blush rising on my face. “You could say that.”

“So…” He leans his elbows on the counter, a conspiratorial smirk on his face. “Should I order some extra special bouquets?”

“Pierre!” I sputter, “It’s been a week!” I’m as flustered by his teasing as I am at having my thoughts of earlier so neatly mirrored. A week it might have been, but my heart insists it’s been forever.

Pierre waves a hand, genially dismissive of my protests. “Oh,  _ pfft _ . I had a tourist buy a bouquet once. He said he’d been with his girlfriend for three days!”

I clear my throat. “Yes, well. That’s his choice. I have no intention of rushing.”

Gus is leaning on the bar, watching us with a fascinated grin. “Rushing, eh? I notice there is no denial there of a wish for a bouquet.”

Pierre chuckles. “I’ll keep an eye out for anything extra special from my suppliers.”

Feeling as though the air itself might burst into flame from the heat of my blushing, I gather my order and damn near flee the saloon, muttering appreciation to Pierre for the consideration and to Gus for the order.

On the way back across the square, I try my hardest to calm my jangled nerves. They mean well. I know they do. But my social anxiety spikes when I'm put on the spot like that, even when my feelings for Wren aren't on the table.

I shake off my discomfort, as I place the food and wine securely in the passenger seat, and in moments I've circled to the drivers side and set out to Berry Hill Farm.

It’s close enough to walk, though a bit of a hike. However, the summer afternoons have begun edging just into uncomfortably hot territory and it’s uphill. In addition to the food concerns, the idea of turning up with sweat stains horrifies me. 

The benefit of being lost in my thoughts is that drive is over before I know it and soon, I’m pulling up outside the farmhouse. I park behind Wren’s old yellow truck and climb out, grabbing the bag and wine. 

The worn steps and porch creak under my feet as I climb up to the door and knock. My heart seems to pulse in my throat as I wait, time seeming to stretch impossibly. Finally, I hear the sound of footsteps on the other side of the door and it creaks open to reveal Wren.

My heart pulses in an entirely different way, the patter of anxiety giving way all in a rush to a throb that I can only, truthfully, describe as  _ smitten _ . She’s wearing a blouse that’s green as tree leaves and pale beige jeans. Her hair is swept up atop her head in a pinned tousle that allows ringlets to tumble back down. My fingers itch to run through them.

She’s beautiful.

Wren smiles as she sees me, eyes shining, and steps forward onto the porch and embraces me. Despite the neck of the wine bottle and handle of the bag clutched in one hand, I eagerly return the hug, my free arm tight around her shoulders. I can smell the warm vanilla scent of her hair and give into the impulse to bury my nose in it. The feeling of her pressed against me seems to slough away all the anxious hours and I feel curiously light. As though I can breathe properly once more.

She tilts her face up, a soft smile on her lips. 

“I’m so glad you’re here.”

Leaning down a little, I meet her smile with my own, kissing her tenderly. She returns it so sweetly and I could happily stand on the porch for hours yet, simply losing myself in her kisses. After a moment, though, Wren steps back with an apologetic smile which broadens into gentle amusement when she sees the look on my face.

“Wouldn’t you rather put down what you’re carrying? I promise you can have more kisses if you want them.”

“I suppose that would be a better idea than standing outside all afternoon,” I grumble playfully, following her in. “Though I was sorely tempted.” Wren laughs as I set the wine bottle and bag on the table.

“I expect we would have gotten hungry after a while.” She picks up the bottle of wine and her eyes go wide as she reads the label. “Harvey…” She looks up at me, surprise in her eyes. “You didn’t have to do this.”

I give her a lop-sided smile. “I know. I wanted to do something special”

The surprise softens and she reaches over and squeezes my hand. “You just being here is special enough, but thank you. I’m sure this will be delicious.” She leans up for a kiss and I’m only too happy to oblige her, brushing my lips against hers.

Wren settles back once more, her eyes bright. “The salmon will only take about thirty minutes. Same with the rice, so we have plenty of time before dinner. Would you like to sit and we can open the wine?”

I shake my head. “We will have plenty of time for that after we eat. I’d like to see what you’ve done with this place.”

Wren smiles with clear pride. “I’d be happy to give you a tour, but I didn’t have you figured for the farmboy type, Doctor Blackwell. I remember the times you’ve been out here in wingtips, walking through the mud.”

I wink at her. “I’m hardly a farmhand, but I  _ did _ learn from last time. I brought my boots. They’re out in the car.”

She laughs out loud. “Yoba, he learns. Are you going to be joining me in the field next?”

I put on as comically thoughtful a look as I can manage. “Well, I do think I need to see the place before I commit to that level of career change, but I’m not ruling anything out.”

She laughs out loud as she puts the salad from the Stardrop in her refrigerator. “Well, in that case, I had better make this tour amazing.”

“I have full faith and confidence in you,” I smile as I steal a kiss.

In short order, Wren has put on her boots, I’ve changed into my own, and we set out across the farm.

We walk slowly through the fields, hand in hand, trading kisses from time to time. Wren shows me the fields of her summer crops and her sprinkler system set up. She points out the thickets and stands of trees where foraging supplements her income in leaner months. Much of the land is still a tangle of wild growth, but she has done an incredible job.

I stop and whistle softly as I look around the farm. “It really is impressive that you’ve done all this by yourself.”

Wren lifts one shoulder in a shrug, clearly embarrassed by the praise. “I just did what I needed to do. I am not going to be able to do much more without help, though. It's my dream to clear this entire place and have all the livestock Marnie can sell me and an orchard of all the trees that Pierre will sell me saplings for.” Despite her demurral, it’s clear to see how much she lights up when talking about her farm. She had nearly glowed when I’d asked for the tour.

I give her a smile. “I love that you have plans for this place.”

She blushes. “It’s the first thing that’s really felt like it’s  _ mine _ , you know? I like that I’ve been able to do something with it.”

I squeeze her hand and lift it to kiss her knuckles. “I know what you mean.” Wren tilts her head up for a kiss, then leans her head on my shoulder and we walk on.

As we reach the edge of the trees, Wren pulls her hand free of mine and trots ahead to pull back a branch of the brambles. Her face is all excitement as she looks back at me. “I know you don't care for spiceberries but I would swear that this area in particular has some sort of magic in the dirt. It grows berries earlier and bigger than anywhere else I’ve seen around here. It’s been a good source for extra money-”

A sudden yelp breaks her words as a spasm of pain contorts her face, and she jerks her hand back from the leaves. There is a whir of wings and a tiny yellow and black shape flits away. Wren cradles her stung hand with the other, drawing a hissing breath as she probes the back of her hand with her thumb.

“Oh, damn. That was stupid.”

I hurry over and take her hand in mine, lip caught in my teeth as I peer at the injury critically. I don’t like how close it is to some of the hand veins. I meet her eyes. “I don’t recall seeing a wasp allergy in your chart.”

She shakes her head. “Nah, I’m not allergic. It’ll just hurt for a bit.”

“Still... we should get back up to the house and get an ice pack on it.”

Wren smiles at me. “You can take the doctor out of the clinic, but can't take the clinic out of the doctor, huh?”

I return her smile, abashed. “Something like that.”

“You can rest easy, doctor; it's okay. As much as I find your professional concern touching, I don’t want you fretting. We have a lovely evening ahead of us. But yeah...” She hisses in a breath. “I think an ice pack would be a good idea.”

We trek back to the farmhouse and Wren’s hand is indeed starting to swell by the time we get there.

I steer her toward the table and she jerks her head in the direction of the freezer as she sits. “Baggies of ice in the door. I got in the habit of keeping them on hand after the first few months here and more bruises and blisters than I could count. I just never broke the habit.”

I chuckle as I pull out one of the makeshift ice packs. ”I can endorse the over preparedness.” I make my way back over to the table and kneel in front of her chair, lifting her stung hand with a gentle touch before pressing the ice pack to the back of it, holding it in place.

My heart seems to flutter at touching her, despite the circumstances. Wren’s hand twitches in mine as if to interlace our fingers and she smiles. “This is not how I planned on the date night going.”

I wink at her and twine my fingers with hers. “Well, we'll just have to roll with the punches, won't we?”


	3. A Chance to Talk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Date night

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, we’ve done it. We’ve reached the end of another story. This has been an amazing ride already and I can’t wait to bring you all even more of Wren and Harvey.
> 
> In this chapter, there will be discussion of personal issues and experiences from both Wren and Harvey which might be triggering for the reader. I don’t think there is anything too terrible, but please read safely.

The scent of lemon is just beginning to fill the house as the salmon bakes, the rice pot is burbling contentedly, and I am already almost blissfully happy. If it weren’t for the residual throb in my hand, I could pretend this date was going exactly as I had planned it.

_ Ah well. C’est la vie. _

I’m not about to complain right now.

I'd settled on my worn blue couch next to Harvey, simply sitting, but it hadn't been long before the ever present urge to touch him was too much to bear. We'd left our boots by the front door before coming inside, so there was no hindrance to tucking my feet up on the couch and cuddling close to him. Harvey had made a pleased noise and placed his arm around my shoulders and a kiss into my hair.

“I suppose,” I murmur, setting aside the ice pack and reaching up to take his hand where it rests against my upper arm, “that I shouldn’t get too comfortable. Dinner will be ready before we know it. But-” I settle more snugly against Harvey and he hugs his arm around my shoulders more tightly. “-it’s just too easy to get comfy with you.”

“I’m glad to hear it.” A soft laugh rumbles in his chest. “What if I promise another chance to be able to get comfy later?”

A beat passes, during which time I valiantly try to contain my giggles at his double entendre while my mind feverishly supplies me with images of just what getting fully comfortable with Dr. Harvey Blackwell could entail.

_ Down, girl. _

“Why, doctor…” I murmur, looking up at him with a teasing smile. “Getting fresh on a first date?”

Another taut moment, then Harvey sputters, a rough and choked sound. “I- I don’t- I didn’t mean-” He heaves a sigh and I can  _ hear _ the fluster in his voice. “I just meant we can come right back here after dinner…”

I squeeze his hand reassuringly, even as I giggle. “Relax. I know what you meant.” Twisting a little, I look up at him with a grin. “I  _ also _ know what you left yourself open for and, well, what kind of friend would I be if I let that kind of opportunity go by?”

He snorts a laugh. “Little bird, you are too much...”

My breath catches and I go still. There is a flutter in my chest at the endearment, surprise and a tangle of other emotions I can’t quite put names to. I’d be lying if I said there wasn’t a hint of embarrassment to it. I have never been dainty and, with the building up of farm muscle, I’m even less so. Hardly a  _ little _ bird… But there was such tender affection in his voice despite his consternation at my teasing. __

_ It’s been so long since someone called me anything with such sweetness. _

After a moment, Harvey’s eyes widen, and he starts to pull away a bit. Anxiety is clear on his face. “I’m sorry,” he mutters, “It- It just slipped out…”

I frown, confused, but realization hits me after a moment. 

_ He thinks I’m upset. _

Turning a little more to face him, I catch up his hand once more, stopping him from pulling away and reach up with my other hand to touch his cheek. “I like it, Harvey,” I murmur softly. “It just caught me by surprise.” I bite my lip. “It’s a ‘cute’ nickname and I- I’m just not accustomed to thinking of myself as…  _ cute _ in any way.”

Harvey smiles, the tension fading from his face as he settles back into place, and turns his head to kiss my palm. “Well, let me assure you, you are indeed cute, but it’s not just that.” He pauses for a moment, mouth working as though he’s trying to decide what to say, before continuing somewhat sheepishly, “If you’ll forgive me a moment of mushiness?”

I give him a nod and a smile as I lower my hand to take his other one, wondering where he is going with this.

There is a blush to his cheeks now to match the sheepish tone of his voice. “It’s not just a play on your name. I, um- I’ve been thinking a lot lately on how much you relax and center me. Being with you… it makes me feel like I’m standing in sunlight listening to the sweetest birdsong.”

A warm wash of feeling floods me, sweet affection vying with tender amusement. “You big softy.”

He lifts a shoulder in a shrug as he gives me a crooked smile. “I never denied it.” 

“Sunlight, huh?” I can’t resist some affectionate teasing. In addition to him being so adorable when flustered, I have to admit I crave to hear more. I’m not sure anyone has ever described being with me in that way before.

Harvey nods, high color in his cheeks. “Wren, I-” He pauses and I can see his throat work as he swallows. There is a fine tremor in his fingers where they rest intertwined in mine. “I want you to know that I- that this whole thing between us is already more than I could have ever hoped. You’ve done more for me, even without realizing it, than anyone else. You’ve kept me grounded in some terrible anxiety.”

I blink. Out of all the things I expected him to say, that I’d helped his anxiety so much was pretty far down the list. “How so?”

He smiles softly, the tremor in his hands abating somewhat but still present. “You’ve kept me centered with what you’ve said. ‘You’re here, I’m here’.” He sighs and looks down at our intertwined fingers. “One of the things I tend to have the most trouble with is keeping in the moment. It’s the ‘what-ifs’ of the future that get me more than anything else. But even when you’re not around at the time, I’ve found myself remembering that phrase and how it made me feel, and it is calming.”

Tears prickle at my eyes. Have I really had that much effect on him? 

“Truly?” I whisper, “Have I really helped that much?”

“Truly.” Harvey murmurs, his eyes tender and earnest, but not without a hint of fear. Leaning on him as I am, I can feel the tension in him. “I promised myself that I would find some way to tell you this tonight. I- Too many times I’ve found myself losing my nerve to say things, but this is too important to me to let my nonsense get in the way. I- I promised myself that no matter how nervous it made me, I’d tell you tonight.”

I can tell it’s taken a lot to be able to tell me. I’m deeply touched that he trusts me this much, that he’s putting himself so far out there in order to be open with me. I want to reciprocate. He and this new relationship mean so much to me, I want to be completely open. But… Voices of the past seem to echo at the back of my mind, sneering coldly that I’m a fool for trusting, that I have no business thinking this can lead to anything good.

I suppress a shiver and try my best to shove that voice away.  _ This is different and Harvey isn’t _ him. It’s more of a struggle than I’d like in order to put myself back in the here and now. Shedding those memories doesn’t come easily.

Leaning up, as much out of a need to do my own centering as out of a need to show him how much I care, I press a gentle kiss to his lips. Unaware of my inner turmoil, Harvey responds with just as much sweetness.

After a few moments, I draw back a little and whisper against his lips, “It means a lot to me that I’ve helped you. I’m glad I’m able to soothe your worrying.” 

He rests his forehead against mine. “Wren, I want to-”

My phone chimes from the table, startling both of us badly. Harvey almost leaps back from me, sitting back from our intimate press, and I feel a pang of loss deep in my chest. He’d been so intent, so clearly about to tell me something important, but I can see in his face that the moment is lost. I can only hope that he will regain his nerve, but I’m not going to press him. Not when he looks so much like a spooked cat. Distantly, I recognize that I’m seizing on worry for him as a distraction for dealing with my own fretful thoughts.

Harvey rubs the back of his neck with one hand, a deep flush of color in his cheeks, and he can’t quite meet my eyes. “I guess dinner is ready.” He stands and offers me his hand with a flourish. “Shall we?”

There is still a shadow in his eyes and I watch him with some concern, but I go along with his gallantry, placing my hand in his and allowing him to draw me up. “Lead on, good sir.”

In short order, the salmon, rice, and salad are on the table along with my best plates and cutlery. The pale gold of the starfruit wine sparkles in our glasses, the glitter almost matching the shine in Harvey’s eyes as he surveys the table.

“This looks amazing. Thank you for this, little bird.”

My heart flutters again at the nickname and I smile. “You’re welcome. Thank you for the salad and wine.” I lean up to kiss his cheek as he pulls out my chair for me and I sit. “You called me little bird again.”

Harvey blushes lightly. “Do you like it, truly? I won’t call you that if you don’t like it.”

“I like it. It’s sweet. I’ll have to think of a nickname for you.”

He smiles. “You don’t have to. Just hearing you say my name is sweeter than any endearment.”

I grin. I can’t help it. “ _ Harvey _ .” I put every tender emotion I can into the murmur and he closes his eyes, seeming to savor it, the corners of his mouth quirking up. I busy myself with serving our plates as I tease him, “I knew you wouldn’t be able to restrain yourself. That bird-watching pun couldn’t have been the end of it.”

Despite his embarrassment, Harvey smiles. “Perish the thought. This old dork can’t leave puns alone.”

“You’re not old, and you’re  _ my _ dork.” I put some comical asperity into the comment and he looks suitably cowed, though his eyes sparkle with amusement.

“Duly noted.”

We begin eating and, after a few bites of the fish, Harvey’s eyes close and he lets out a deep and contented sounding sigh.

“Wren, this fish is amazing. Where on earth did you buy it?”

“Ye Olde River Shoppe,” I tell him with a giggle. “Caught it myself.”

His eyes go wide. “You’re kidding. I had no idea that our local fish were so good.”

“Seriously? You must not have been cornered by Willy and gotten the spiel about angling yet. The way he tells it, the rivers and lakes around here are the best in the Valley. Possibly in the entire Republic.”

He blinks and let out a surprised sounding  _ oof _ . “I have to admit that I have not. Other than perhaps a half-hearted attempt or two when I was small, I’ve never even held a fishing rod much less caught anything. I can’t imagine Willy would think he had much to talk about with me regarding fish.”

I smirk. “You might be surprised. I’ve seen him talk fish at someone until their eyes glaze over more than once.” I take a sip of wine. “I could teach you if you want. I still have the first rod that Willy gave me when I moved here. It would be perfect to learn on.”

He swallows and looks distinctly uncomfortable.

I gesture to him with my wine glass, raising one eyebrow, inquisitively teasing. “I can see you thinking about squiggling worms and hooks accidentally in fingers, doctor.”

He startles a little, clearly caught out. “Um- yes. I suppose my fretting is easy to read.”

There’s that flutter in my chest again, only this time, there’s no embarrassment. Just a sweet little pulse at the thought that he cares enough to worry. I cover his hand warmly with mine. “A bit. But just like you’re my dork, you're  _ my _ anxious doctor. Wouldn’t change you for the world. So long as you don’t get to fretting too much.”

Harvey laughs softly. “Well, that’s very reassuring.” He falls silent and fidgets with his napkin with his free hand. “A bit ago on the couch, before we were interrupted... There’s some things I want to tell you. Things about me and my anxiety. To explain.”

“You don’t need to explain yourself to me, Harvey. Not if you don’t want to.”

He shakes his head. “I  _ do _ want to. Maybe it’s weird or stupid, but I want you to know. I- I admit that part of it is me wanting you to know why I am the way I am, at least as far as I’ve been able to sort it out.”

I squeeze his hand. “I want to understand and I want to be able to help as much as I can, but only tell me what you’re comfortable with, okay?”

“I promise.” He laughs softly, almost self-deprecatingly. “Is it weird to have this kind of talk on a first date?”

“Perhaps for others, but who’s to say what’s right for us, except us? Sounds like we need to throw out that protocol book again.”

He smiles a little, despite the troubled look in his eyes. “I think I can get behind that plan.” He sighs and pushes the food around his plate for a moment. “This isn’t something I tell many people. But we have been friends for a long time now and-” he ducks his head. “I- I almost feel like I’ve known you forever.”

“There’s my softy.” The corners of my mouth had been trying to twitch into a smile as he spoke and I let them slide into a full fledged grin. Harvey blushes and forges on, but there’s an answering grin on his face for a moment.

“My anxieties tend to be about things I can’t foresee. It- It’s a holdover from growing up. I, um- I felt like I couldn’t trust in anything that was coming so I started making sure I would always know what to do.” He pauses and chuckles, a little darkly. “Perhaps something that works well enough in theory, but it’s a sharp slide into life-long anxiety if you’re not careful.”

I frown a little. “I can definitely see that. How do you handle it?”

He laughs again, a near mirthless noise. “Not well, if I’m being honest. I’m sure you’ve noticed I tend to be a bundle of nerves. But when I know what I’m doing? I’m generally fine. It’s part of why practicing medicine works for me. Even when there’s an unusual outcome, how to handle it involves pre-defined protocols. I can set aside worry and focus on the next step.”

“Even when it’s me?” I ask gently, remembering his admission of how scared he had been the night I was in the clinic.

Harvey shudders. “Even then. Yoba… I was terrified, but I made myself put it aside in order to do what I needed to do. I didn’t break until I realized I’d missed the poison. All of my reliance on preparation and knowing what I’m doing... It was no good when it really mattered.” His face grows shuttered and I can see the flicker of pain in his gaze. Biting back a curse, I scoot my chair closer to him.

“Hey. Didn’t I already tell you not to blame yourself?”

He lets out a long breath and I can see a flicker of a smile despite the worry-lines on his face. “You did. Quite vociferously, as I recall.”

“That’s right, and you can trust I’ll be vociferous again. You said that I’ve helped you center and focus on the present. Consider this a poke to do just that.”

The furrows on his forehead ease and Harvey laughs out loud. “Well then! I’d be graceless indeed to refuse direction from such a lovely woman.” He leans over and kisses me with a grin, murmuring as he draws back, “You’ve done it again, little bird.”

Laughing, I chase after another kiss. “And I’m going to keep doing it.”

Thoughts tumble through my head as we go back to the meal and small talk fills the time. I don’t have the same kind of anxieties that Harvey has, but it’s clear how much he had to put himself out there to be so open, so bared. I can’t help but answer that same level of trust with my own. There are things I should tell him as well. He told me things he felt I needed to know about why he acts the way he does. The least I can do is reciprocate.

Memory tugs.

That night at the Stardrop, I’d automatically shied from his touch, hyper aware of all the gazes in the bar pretending to not be on us. Guilt ripples through me. He needs to know the why of it. I have to nerve myself up, though. Doubt and fears war inside me. Will he understand? Logically, I know he will. Harvey might as well have understanding as part of his DNA. But I can’t shake the fear of putting myself out there. The memory of that vulnerability only resulting in pain is sharp.

“...Wren?”

With a jolt, I wrench back to the here and now. Harvey is watching me with an expectant look.

“I’m so sorry, I was… lost in thought.”

“It’s all right,” he says with a small smile. “I just asked if you still wanted to start a movie now that we are done with dinner.”

I’m tempted, so tempted, to simply curl back up with him on the couch. That comfortable closeness from before is like a siren call. But I shake my head. “You told me things that were hard for you. You deserve at least the same amount of honesty from me. I want to tell you about some things.”

His brow furrows a little with concern. “Wren… This isn’t some kind of  _ quid pro quo. _ You don’t need to tell me anything that you don’t want to.”

I give him a fleeting smile that only feels a little forced. “Didn’t I tell you the same thing? There’s some things I think you need to know in order to understand- why I am the way I am about certain things.”

I can see the worry lurking in his eyes. He doesn’t know where this is going and it’s plain to see that he’s fretting.

“I’m here to listen. Whatever you want to tell me, as long as you’re comfortable telling it.”

We go over to the couch and sit. He resumes his previous spot against the arm and I’m tempted to take mine, leaning against his side. But that would put me facing away from him, hiding in the lack of eye contact. He-  _ we  _ deserve better.

I sit on the couch, pulling my feet up under me again, facing him this time. Harvey watches silently, his eyes thoughtful. As I settle, I take his hand, rubbing my thumb over his knuckles, needing the grounding touch.

“I came to the Valley because I inherited this farm, but that was only part of the reason. I was- leaving someone behind.”

I can feel Harvey tense, and I hasten to reassure him.

“I needed to leave. Things were… well, they were not good, to put it mildly.” I have to force the words to be above a whisper, remembered pain sparking in me. “Whenever we were alone, he was cold. He-” The words hitch and I have to swallow down the lump in my throat. I’ve never told anyone this before and, while a corner of my mind is petrified that I’m spilling so much to Harvey, this also feels like lancing a wound.  _ I’ve festered… _ The realization is enough by itself to make me want to keep going.  _ I’ve spent too much time beholden to the memories. _ “He was c-cruel. Put me down when we were alone and s-showed no romantic interest unless it suited him. But he was perfectly affectionate in public. Attentive as he could be. Perfectly sweet. I guess he couldn’t stand others knowing he didn’t have a perfect relationship, that… that I wasn’t perfect.” 

Despite my resolve, I find myself crumpling forward, hiding myself against his chest. The words had nearly spilled out on their own. My fear that Thomas had treated me as he did because I couldn’t have been what he needed or wanted has dug into my heart unchecked in the years since, and almost has a mind of its own now.. 

Harvey’s arms squeeze tightly around me and it isn’t until he brushes a gentle touch over my face that I realize I’m crying.

“Please don’t talk about yourself like that.” His voice is choked, as though he’s fighting his own tears. “If you weren’t perfect, it’s only that you weren’t for him. Though it sounds like the only thing that would be perfect for him is a punch in the face. You didn’t deserve to be hurt like that.” He’s silent for a few moments and when he speaks again, his voice is low and intense. “The privilege of being in a relationship with someone is not for points or trophies. It’s not for seeing what you can put up with until something better comes along. If you’re with someone, you’re  _ with _ them and, if you want to be elsewhere, then you should have the balls to do it.” He brushes a kiss against my forehead. “I’m right where I want to be and I don’t care who else knows it as long as  _ you _ do.”

A burst of tears wets my face and darkens his shirt in spots as my shoulders hitch in a sob, the simplicity of his words wrenching emotion from my fearful heart. His arms are warm around my back, as warm as his words are around my heart. Harvey rocks us slowly, murmuring nonsense and soothing noises until the tears ease.

“I- I wanted you to know. I have some… fears about things with us.” I hiccup a sob. The words start to spill out again, fumbling over each other. “Thomas and I… we rushed. Fell into bed quickly. I thought it meant that he loved me and just couldn’t wait. I was so confused when he started barely paying attention to me in private, but whenever we were around people, it was just like it had been at the beginning. I- I’m not sure I can really be romantic in public. That night at the saloon… I pulled my hand away from yours. I want to, Harvey. Please believe that. I don’t want to have these doubts and worries.” A hot wash of tears streaks down my face, shame near strong enough to choke me. “I- I”m so sorry, Harvey. You don’t deserve that doubt from me. Or from anyone. I j-just… I have to fight it. I promise I’m trying. I swear, I’m trying.”

The gentle touch of his fingers under my chin cuts off the babble, and Harvey lifts my face to his. He kisses me with such tenderness that it overwhelms and soothes every jangled nerve and I find myself melting against him, my fingers kneading into the fabric of his shirt. After a moment, he draws back from the kiss and I can see the glitter of tears in his eyes. Harvey whispers intensely. “Wren, I would never, I  _ could _ never, treat you that way.”

I let out a shuddering sigh. “I- I know. I don’t  _ want _ to have these doubts, but it’s like I still hear his voice in the back of my head and it’s so damn hard to get him to  _ shut up _ .”

“Focus on the here and now.” I can hear the warm smile in his voice. “Like you’ve told me. ‘You’re here, I’m here.’  _ He’s _ not, so only the here and now matters to listen to. I will do whatever I can to help you unpack the rest of it, but your ‘now’ is what matters.’

A disbelieving laugh bubbles up, tangling with a fresh sob, this one of a giddy joy instead of pain. How have I turned out so lucky? Sitting up, I scrub at my face, desperately aware of how raw I must look from crying.

“I’ve never told anyone but my therapist about everything that happened.”

Harvey smiles softly and reaches up to rub his thumb at a stubborn tear track. “I’m honored you trusted me with this.”

I let my eyes drift shut and lean into his touch. “I started losing friends over it. He convinced not just me, but everyone we hung out with, that he was the one doing everything right and any problem that we had lay with me. That if we seemed so lovey-dovey in public, but I was the one unhappy, there had to be something wrong with me.” I open my eyes and sigh. “I think he wasn’t actually all that interested in me. Maybe he just didn’t want to be alone.”

Harvey makes a derisive noise. “Then he should have had the courtesy to treat you in a way that didn’t mean he might as well  _ be _ alone.”

Despite my frayed emotions, I hiccup a laugh. “That’s fair enough.” I settle against Harvey once more, this time in more of a cuddle instead of a desperate cling. His arms settle around me in a warm embrace. “I finally got tired of being treated like a backpocket handrag, only remembered when it was convenient and treated just as badly. I started rejecting him in public. We fought a lot, and this is where I lost most of our friends, but eventually, he ghosted me. I came home from work one day and all his stuff was just gone. About a week later, I saw him out with one of our other friends, just all over her in the bar we used to go to.”

Harvey’s arms tighten around me, but he says nothing.

“I guess it was easier for him to pretend that we had never happened. I stayed in the city for another few months. Saw a therapist for a bit. But eventually, it became too hard to see so many reminders all around me. I took the opportunity to come out here and… well, I guess you know the rest.”

I feel a kiss against my hair and Harvey says quietly, “I do.” 

“Sorry for derailing the evening.” I hiccup a laugh and trace a finger against the damp fabric covering his chest. “Also, sorry for messing up your shirt.”

I can feel the laughter rumbling in his chest. “No need to be sorry. My shirt is washable, and like I said, I’m honored that you trusted me. What do you say we try for some stereotypical first date sorts of things? You could ask me all kinds of bland and innocuous questions.”

I laugh. “Only if you promise to ask me just as many.”

“I promise.”

I giggle, sitting back a little and tapping a finger theatrically against my chin. Harvey lets go enough to let me sit back, but keeps his hand on my shoulder as though he can’t bear to not be in contact. 

“Hmm. I know that you like coffee, wine, and pickles, and I know that you don’t like salmonberries and spiceberries, but what actual meal is your favorite?”

He quirks a smile. “That weird bok choy, cranberry, and artichoke concoction that Gus trots out on occasion.”

“Really? His ‘Super Meal’?” I blink in surprise. I’d never been able to gather the courage to try it. It had just seemed like such a  _ weird _ combination.

Harvey nods. “That’s the one. I admit it’s bizarre, but I tried it once just to see what it was like and I loved it.”

“Huh. I’ll have to see if I can make it. Anything besides the berries that you just don’t like?”

He shrugs at little. “I don’t have much of a sweet tooth, so I’m not big on pastries and things.”

I grin at him. “So that’s not just the doctor trying to be healthy?”

He laughs. “Well, it’s that as well.” He pokes me in the ribs gently. “My turn. How about you? What’s your favorite meal?”

“Well, it’s not as exciting as the Super Meal, but I absolutely love pumpkin soup. I lost my recipe in the move out here and I haven’t been able to get my hands on a new one.”

He tilts his head in thought. “I seem to remember that Robin is known for making a lovely pumpkin soup. I’m sure she’d be happy to share her recipe with you.”

“Oh, yay!” It’s all I can do not to wriggle in excitement and Harvey laughs. I think for a moment on my next question. “What’s your middle name?”

“Christopher.” He blushes a little. “My, um- my mother was a big fan of Jimmy Stewart and, as a child, I wasn’t enthused about the idea that I was named after an imaginary rabbit. So I insisted on being called Christopher, though never Chris, until I was in my late teens. What’s yours?”

“Elizabeth. After my dad’s mom.” I smile and take a quick kiss. “It’s not as exciting as being named after a classic movie.”

He chuckles and chases another kiss. “When I was eleven, I’d have gladly taken a familial name instead of what I had. That kind of exciting does not sit well with an overly serious adolescent.”

I giggle. “No, I guess it wouldn’t.” I reach up and run my fingers through his hair, tousling the curl out of place. I feel curiously light after telling him of my worries, as though the burden of them were lessened, but in a way, they seem sharper. “Harvey… you mean so much to me. Already, this feels like… I don’t know what I’d do if something happened.”

He makes a soft, shushing noise. “Nothing says that anything will happen. You mentioned that you rushed before, with him, and that you’re nervous. So, we’ll go slowly. As slow as you need. I’m right where I want to be and as long as you know that, I can’t ask for anything more.” He presses a kiss to my forehead. “It’s been a while since I’ve been in any kind of relationship. I want to do this properly. Spoil you senseless, with your permission.”

Warmth rises in me at the thought of Harvey spoiling me senseless. Not just that. The thought of him being so happy just to be with me. “I- I think I’d like that,” I whisper, feeling as though I could burst from sheer happiness.

“So,” he drawls with a grin. “No concern for the ‘right’ way of doing this dating thing. No rushing, and plenty of spoiling for my little bird.”

I arch an eyebrow challengingly at him as I lean closer. “So long as I get to spoil you as well.”

“I wouldn’t dare to stand in your way. But I do have one more innocuous question for you, my Wren.”

I hum inquisitively, a breath away from his lips.

“Would you kiss me?”

Our laughter collides as I gleefully oblige.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We’ll do it all  
> Everything  
> On our own
> 
> We don’t need  
> Anything  
> Or anyone
> 
> If I lay here  
> If I just lay here  
> Would you lie with me and just forget the world?  
> \- “Chasing Cars” Snow Patrol


End file.
